


Fallen

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Big Finish (Torchwood), Committee-verse, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: Ianto is about to discover just how lucky he is
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50
Collections: fic_promptly Fills 2016





	Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue for Big Finish audioplay "Fall to Earth". Spoilers ahead. Original story by James Goss.

Ianto pocketed his phone and began trying to untangle himself from the multitude of parachute lines. No one was paying any attention to him, out here in the middle of a deserted park. Not whilst there was a spaceship crash landed several miles away, in any case. Still, he wasn't keen on being found anywhere near here, and the police would have a lot of questions for him that he wouldn't be able to answer. Not without sounding like a lunatic or a terrorist.

He managed to unclip the remaining lines, caught and tangled around his already damaged leg. It was really staring to ache again just above the tourniquet, as was the rest of his body. He began staggering across the wide expanse of dry, yellow parkland, knowing that he needed to find a doctor to patch him up. His head was spinning and his leg was seeping blood again. He managed a few more steps before the sensations left his leg altogether, causing him to tumble to the ground. The dusty gravel bit into his cheek as he lay there, unable to stand up again. The adrenaline that had kept him going for the past two hours was all but spent. It wasn't how he expected he'd go, he decided, but at least it was warm and sunny, he thought as consciousness slipped away.

Jack had been watching from the ground as the Sky Puncher plummeted toward the earth, helpless to do anything to stop it. He'd been working intelligence on The Committee from an office block on the outskirts of town, which also housed a major call centre on the floors below the one he was occupying. When the word had come through that the Sky Puncher had been sabotaged, he knew that The Committee were on to him. Overnight he'd made the entire office and all the people working in it, disappear.

He'd doubled back the next morning, determined to find out if anyone was following his movements, or coming to snoop on his operations. He still had no names or faces for the people he was chasing, so was determined to see if they turned up.

He was surprised when his vortex manipulator started beeping a warning at him. It had been tracking the location of the Sky Puncher vessel. It didn't take long for his sophisticated software to plot its course, and for him to realise it was headed straight for him. There wasn't time to figure out how they'd orchestrated it, and fire alarms were blaring throughout the building. He snuck out of the building with the rest of the evacuees and watched from several blocks away as the inevitable unfolded before him.

What caught his eye however was not the low flying ship, hurtling at colossal speed over the city skyline, but the tiny spec that shot outwards from its fuselage. Moments later a parachute billowed out. Someone on board was alive? He watched as it floated unobserved away from the main scene, trying follow its path, dodging through the city streets to where it had landed. He was convinced it must have been the saboteur, ditching at the last possible moment. He had to get to them before they made their getaway.

A wide stretch of parkland signaled the landing zone, and he could make out the remnants of the ejector seat and parachute, fluttering against the ground in the breeze. A small figure was stumbling away from them, and looked to be in bad shape. He watched from a distance as they collapsed to the ground, and then he made his approach.

There was no way of knowing how badly injured his quarry might be, so he drew his gun and held it low by his side as he approached. The closer he got, the more the scene perplexed him. It was a man in a suit. Camouflage perhaps to get on board? The closer he came, the more familiar the outline became. No, it wasn't possible, it just looked a lot like him, he thought. It wasn't until he was only a few yards away that the sickening reality hit him that it was indeed who he thought. What the hell was he doing here? How? Why?

He knelt down beside the man and quickly checked for a pulse, calling his name over and over. He surveyed his injuries, which seemed to be mainly his leg in its makeshift tourniquet. It was going to need more than a few sticking plasters to patch it up. Carefully, he picked up the unconscious man and began carrying him.

Ianto was confused when he woke up. He felt fuzzy and warm. Everything around him felt soft and was pale green, like he was floating in the middle of a peppermint cream. He closed his eyes and reopened them trying to focus harder on what he was seeing. It looked like a hospital room on second thoughts, but how had he gotten here?

'Hello, Mr Jones,' came a familiar voice. He turned his head towards the sound.

'Zeynep?' he asked, confused.

'Yes, Mr Jones. How are you feeling?'

'Floaty. It's nice though.' Maybe he'd died and this was heaven. A bizarre heaven with call centre staff.

She let out a gentle laugh, her wavy back hair framing her petite face. It was prettier than he'd imagined. 'That will be the painkillers.'

'Indeed,' he agreed, enjoying that fact that nothing hurt nearly as much as it probably should. 'How did I get here?'

'I was walking past the hospital on my way home when I saw a man in a long coat carrying someone inside. You.'

'How did you know it was me?'

She smiled knowingly. 'Mr Jones, I don't think there are too many people in they city with a bleeding leg using luggage straps to stop the bleeding.'

'That would be a bit of a coincidence, I suppose. You said a man in a long coat?' Could it be too much to hope for, he thought?

'Yes. Very handsome and very nice. I told him I knew who you were and he seemed very worried about you, so I told him everything that happened.'

'Jack,' Ianto said, almost to himself.

'He didn't tell me his name, but he said that I should give you this message so that you would know it was him. Let me see,' she said, unfolding the piece of paper. 'It was very confusing. I had to write down how to pronounce it. Ah, here. He said, diolch yn fawr, banana. I think I got that right.'

Ianto tried to laugh but ended up coughing painfully instead. The whiplash on that parachute had been brutal. 'You did very well, Zeynep. Your Welsh is almost as good as your English.' There was no mistaking it was Jack. He'd used his collective Welsh vocabulary to send out the message loud and clear. Thank you very much, banana. He shook his head. Only Jack. 'Where is he now?'

'Gone. But he stayed for many hours until he was sure you would be okay. I told him I would stay until you woke up. He said he found a flash drive in your pocket and that you wouldn't mind if he took it.'

Of course he did. It was Jack's subtle way of telling him that his race was run, and that he'd take things from here. He thought begrudgingly about how he'd have to go home and have nothing to show for his troubles to teammates who would be less than impressed by his misadventures. So much for winning them over.

'He also brought you this,' Zeynep said, proffering a small worn document. My passport, Ianto realised. How on earth had Jack come to obtain that? He certainly hadn't taken it with him on the Sky Puncher, having planned to be taking off and landing on solid British terra firma. He immediately sensed a problem when he flicked to the last used page, only to find that somehow he'd come to earn a Turkish visa entry stamp. Well, that would solve a lot of problems. He didn't think the Turkish government would have taken too kindly to his explanation that he had parachuted into their country.

'It looks like we got to meet after all,' he commented, sinking back into the pillow.

'Yes it does,' she agreed. 'And I am very glad that you are okay, Mr Jones.'

'Sorry I'm not dressed for the occasion,' he apologised. 'Green is really not my colour.'

'That's okay. I really should be getting home to my family. They will be worried.'

'Of course. And thank you again, Zeynep. I don't know what I would have done without you.'

'Probably crashed a spaceship, Mr Jones.'

He chuckled. 'Probably.'

'I wish you a speedy recovery and a safe trip home. I would say you should stay for a few days but it's really just car crushing plants and poisonous rivers.'

'Thank you,' he repeated. 'It's the last time I'll be using Contiki to book my travel plans.'

'On the plus side, Mr Jones,' she said, getting up and making her way to the door, 'at least you will be fully insured if anything happens to you.'

'Zeynep?' he called out.

'Yes, Mr Jones?'

'I don't think we sorted out travel insurance.'

'Same credit card details as your last purchase?'

'Mmm hmm.'

'The details of your new policy will be emailed to you in the next few days.'


End file.
